Goody Two Shoes
by weapon13WhiteFang
Summary: Years since his kidnapping, Abel Teller seems to have grown up just fine with his little brother John T. Teller. Emma Young has never wanted anything to do with people, but fates got a problem with that mind set. Abel Teller/OC. Small HIATUS
1. Fight!

**WARNING: Beware of possible spelling and grammatical errors; I don't fix those til after I finish a story. If that bugs you, I'm sorry. Its how I work.**

"Fight! Fight! Fight!

Wham!

She jumped, her books almost flying from her hands as she stumbled back from her locker as a large male with dark black hair, dark eyes, and wearing a letter-mans jacket is slammed against it, shutting it roughly and leaving a slight dint from his head against the metal. His face, nose dripping blood, is contorted in rage, as he pushed off the locker.

"Hey jock-strap! Had enough!" Standing with shoulders squared and fist clenched was another male with long blonde hair pulled back in a small ponytail at the base of his neck. He was tall, probably around six foot, with broad shoulders, light facial hair, and blue eyes. He was wearing a black shirt with ripped up sleeves and SON written in big, bold, white letters, and a pair of baggy, grease and oil stained, ripped up jeans and boots.

"Teller! You son of a bitch!" The dark haired jock roared, spitting blood and saliva. "I'm gonna kick your ass!" The blonde male rolled his eyes and popped his neck. "Hey, Richie! Chill out, dude. I don't wanna kick your ass too much. Don't you have game to loose this week?" This caused the dark haired jock, Richie, to snap and lunge at the other male, causing a roll and rip tumble to start.

The hallway was an uproar of cheers and screams of fear. Many of the cheerleaders were split between cheering for Richie and the other male, while some a lot of the trashy, but pretty, girls cheered for one guy. "Abel! Kick his ass!" one yelled over the roar of the other girls, causing them all to laugh, as she rolled her eyes and tried to push through the crowd that was blocking her from her destination; the library.

"Watch it, bitch!" was all she heard before she was roughly pushed into the center, grunting as she slammed into the ground, her books flying and slamming into the back of Richie's head, as a swift jab to the jaw was made by Abel Teller, causing the jock to fly back towards her. She cringed and threw her arms up in reflex defense. She let out a chocked cry as the back of her shirt was yanked, and she was pulled back before the taller male slammed into the ground where she'd been.

"Man! You were almost killed!" she blinked and opened her eyes, gasping and stifling a cry as a pair of blue-green eyes slightly covered by long dusty brown hair on a grinning face, looked back at her. "Bro! You almost turned her into jock roadkill!" he laughed, picking her up easily and putting her to her feet. Abel looked up from wiping Richie's blood off his knuckles onto his jeans, as Coach Juniors and Mr. Lee, one of the P.E. teachers and the Geometry teacher, came storming down the hall towards the mob of people, causing all the kids to scramble away as she began to grab her books in frustration.

"Teller! God dammit, what the hell?" Coach Junior bellowed, barreling up to him and grabbing him by the scruff of the back of his vest and shirt. For an old guy who'd been teaching at the school for over fourty years, he was pretty fast and in shape. He shook him and pointed to Richie, who was being sat up and looked at by Mr. Lee. "Two weeks til graduation! Two goddamn weeks and you pull this shit? I know you work at that damn garage and around a lot of fumes, but what the hell is wrong with you?"

Abel rolled his eyes in a gesture of boredom, as she picked up her last book and stood silently, waiting to see if she was addressed for anything. Beside her was still the same male who had picked her up. He had a grin on his face and was trying not to laugh. "Wipe that look off your face, John Teller," Mr. Lee snapped, pointing at him with a glare. John's grin dropped and he almost seemed to pout, as Mr. Lee's blinked in surprise as he stared at her. "Emma Young... What... Miss Young what are you doing here?"

Emma blinked and shifted her books in her arms. A World History, AP Psychology, and AP Chem book and a two library books were really heavy when you weren't moving. "Sorry, sir. I was at my locker," she pointed to the now dented locker with no decorations on it ",when Mr. Oltz's head was slammed against my locker. I tried to retreat to the library, when I was shoved into the middle and almost injured by Mr. Oltz after Mr. Teller got him."

Abel glared slightly at her as she basically told on him. Who cares. She didn't owe him anything. He had made her late to the library, had almost gotten her hurt, and she was not going to be thrown into detention because of him or Charming High's current star quarterback, Richie Oltz. The only one who she would possibly cover for at this time would be John teller and only because he kept her from getting hurt by Richie's landing.

Mr. Lee shook his head and stood up, bringing Richie to his feet. "This is no place for you. You have the valedictorian speech to be working on. Go on," he gestured her off towards the direction of the library. "We'll come and get you if Miss Oswald needs you. Teller," he pointed to John. "Go with miss Young then I want you to go home and tell your parents that your brother will most likely be serving afternoon detention."

With that Mr. Lee began to escort and carry Richie Oltz to the Principals office. Abel and John shared a look, before Abel was yanked off by Coach Junior behind Lee, chewing the blonde haired male a new hole. Emma blinked, watching, before she silently turned around, leaving John to watch his brother.

"Wha-Hey! Whoa, wait up!" She didn't slow down or speed up, as she heard John catch up to walk beside her. He was a well developed Sophmore. He wasn't as tall as Abel, but he was taller than her five foot six inches. His features were sharper than his brothers, and he had a clownish attitude, while Abel had that, but a sort of I'll kick your ass vibe as well. The Teller boys were hard to explain. She'd been going to school with Abel since her and her family moved back to Charming when she was twelve; six years ago.

"So hey, you OK? How'd you end up on the ground?" Emma adjusted her books as she saw the library. "I was pushed. I was in someones way, so they pushed me away." She saw him nod out the corner of her eye, stopping to blink as she realized her vision was getting blurry. She reached up to touch her eyes, and groaned. Her glasses were gone!

John began to laugh. "Oh man1 I was wondering how long you'd go before you realized they were gone!" she turned to glare at him, only to stumble back in surprise as her glasses were pushed onto her face. "Found em on the ground. Better?"

She nodded. "Thank-you, I suppose." he wrinkled his nose and shrugged. "Well _I suppose_I'll be off. Nice talking to ya... Emma, right?" she nodded again, waving as he stuffed his hands in his baggy jeans and walked away. She watched him, before walking into the library, ready to calm down a possibly worried Mr. Quillam, the librarian.

**Started this a long time ago, picked it back up. Not really sure where I'm going with it, oreven if I'll be continueing after I post the first six chapters. We'll see. If you all like it I might continue.**

**Also, yes, this is a story taking place when Abel is older. John Thomas Teller is his half brother, the baby we see Tara preggers with. This is bassed around Abel, so who knows how much of the other characters we'll get... Just saying.**


	2. Job

Three days.

It had been three days since the fight in the hallway, and everyone was still talking about it. Today was the school seniors last day. Lockers were being cleaned out, hugs and tears were happening all over the hallways, and guys were fist pumping happily, ready to graduate next week. The seniors would get the last week of school off, leaving the sophomores and juniors alone.

Emma was actually as excited as everyone else... She just didn't have anyone to celebrate it with. Around the school, she was invisible. She had made sure of that. She had kept to her books and school work over friends and people. She was never a people person, and making friends when your like that is hard enough. And she also hated Charming kids. When she had first moved back from her home, from Germany, she'd brought back her accent mixed with her fathers; Irish. When you have a foreign accent around a bunch of somewhat hick kids, you get a lot of crap.

So since her first week of seventh grade, she'd learned to talk to less people and isolate herself; the art of invisibility, as her mother distastefully called it. Her family had always been proud of how smart she'd been. But her lack of friends since she left Germany upsets them a lot; especially her mother.

Emma sighed as she stuffed the last of her locker decorations, a picture of her old friends and herself back in Germany, when she heard the hallway intercom beep to life. _"Emma Young, please come to the office. Emma Young, please come to the office." S_he furrowed her brow, picking up her heavy backpack, and pulling it over her shoulder as she shut her locker, heading towards the office, wondering why she was being called in.

* * *

><p>Miss Tristen Oswald was a beautiful woman with green eyes and shoulder length reddish brown hair. She was younger than her parents, who knew her father Mayor Oswald. And though she came from a good upbringing, some questioned her ability to run a High School because of her age. But she was good at her job, and Emma respected her. She had that kind of face that you could trust, because you really felt she truly understood what you were trying to explain to her.<p>

"Emma, hi," she smiled and reached out to shake her hand, just as she did with all the students, faculty, and parents; everyone was equal to her. "I promise you're not in any trouble for what happened between Abel Teller and Richie Ortz, but this does deal with the same incident." Emma nodded, though not understanding. Although she was glad she wasn't in any trouble, seeing as she hadn't truly done anything, she wondered what else there was to discuss dealing with that day?

Miss Oswald pulled out a manila folder with her name on it, pushing her hair behind her ear as she flipped through it. "Emma Young... Valedictorian... Higher than a four point zero GPA... Less than three misses... Good. You are the right person to speak to then." she closed the folder and pushed it to the side, before locking her fingers together and placing them on her desk.

"Before you were called in, I had been on the phone with Abel's mother. You know of Dr. Teller, yes?" Emma nodded. She knew of Abel and John's mother, because her father went to see her for his knee medication change. She was a nice woman.

"Well, if you haven't heard, Abel was given OSS. And with school finals for seniors having come and gone, he wouldn't be able to graduate, having not finished them," she paused, making sure Emma was taking this all in, before continuing. "Mrs Teller has asked that Abel be given a tutor for final studies, and be allowed to take them in the presence of the tutor and returned here before graduation day. He'll be allowed a whole three days, six if the tutor decides to go today, and this weekend and on, which Mrs Teller requested be done, and will be taking the test this coming Wednesday, and be allowed to know if he can graduate by Thursday, before Friday."

Emma tilted her head. That was actually a smart thing to ask of the school. Mrs Teller must really want her son to have some kind of educational future, surprisingly enough, considering his family. Oh yes. She knew all about his family; at least as much as rumors could tell. His father and grandfathers were members of Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, or SAMCRO as a lot of people called them, a motorcycle enthusiast group. It would surprise no-one if Abel would be following his father and grandfathers into the club life.

"What does this have to do with me, miss Oswald?" Emma finally asked, causing the young Principal to smile. "I would like for you to be Abel Tellers tutor, miss Young." Emma felt her eyes widen and her body slouch and jaw almost drop. "Pardon my french ma'am, but I have more important things to do than teach some dumbass neanderthal like Abel Teller over my week break." Miss Oswald smiled wider, and Emma wanted to smack her for it. She was a nice, calm, woman. Perfect person to have working with teenagers.

"This would really benefit me, Emma," she began with a simple smile. "All of my tutors have called it a year and none of the teachers will put up with him. Though he is a smart boy, Abel is a trouble maker, as you may well know. This would go on your record of activities, to which I see you simply have the reading, chem, and chess club. A tutor position would show your ability to handle people and stressful environments, to which would be impressive to any college you have or have not applied for."

Emma pondered this. True she needed more activities on her list. And a tutor position would be perfect to add to her social skills and academics. Sighing deeply, she sat up in her chair and nodded. "Alright. I suppose I can reschedule when I return to work. Mrs. Francis, the public librarian, said to start work when I was ready," she sighed once more, and put on a slightly weak smile. "I would be honored to help you and tutor Abel Teller, starting this afternoon."

Miss Oswalds smile was bright and appreciative, as she reached out and shook Emma's hand. "I really appreciate this, miss Young. And actually, I have contacted your parents and asked if you may miss the rest of the day to go early. The sooner you start, the quicker this can all be done for everyone." Emma nodded in agreement, as she reached down and picked up her bag, happy to have collected all her belongings and returned all her school stuff already, leaving one less thing to do as she went forward with this proposition.

Emma was handed a folder with instructions on what he would need to study for each of his finals, before sending her on her way. Stepping out the office, she made her way through the front door, showing her pass to the hall monitor, before walking outside to her two thousand three Chevy Malibu parked at the side of the school in her usual spot next to the jock lot. She spotted a few jocks sitting and leaning on nice cars, chatting away and skipping, as she slid into her car and started it up, placing Abel Tellers work in her passenger seat, before backing out.

* * *

><p>"So how much of a new hole did your mama dig into that already hallow head of yours?"<p>

Jax stared down at his son, as he was sprawled under his bike, going to work at the under side of the engine, covered in sweat, oil, and grease, wearing a wifebeater and jeans with a rag slung on the handlebars. Jax couldn't help the pride that surged through him over Abel and John. His boys had been through a lot, one before he was even born and in his mothers stomach. They were strong, loyal to each other and the club, and tough. Abel was his boy through and through, but he wasn't surprised to see some of Wendy's facial expressions and old snappish attitude.

Abel hadn't seen his real mother since he was ten, and he wouldn't call her mom; just Wendy. He had just shrugged when Wendy had cried and bitched about it. She hadn't been apart of his life long enough. She'd almost been his death along with the Teller family flaw. He knew his past with the Irish and his almost death, and that just made the kid stronger.

"Ah well, I should have a whole birds nest lodged in it soon enough. Damn. Mom gets so pissed over stupid shit. Fucker deserved it," he grunted as he tightened a valve. "Jock-straps piss me off. Talking shit he don't know about just cause his daddy's a crack headed long-arm of the law."

Jax smirked as Abel slid out from under the bike and jumped to his feet, grabbing the rag off the bike and wiping his face and hands, before throwing it over his shoulder. "Your mom signed you up for a tutor," Jax finally commented, spilling the beans he'd been waiting to spill on his son. Abel's head swung his way and he looked at him in disbelief. "No shit? Your kidding, right?" Jax smirked and Abel groaned, cursing.

"The fuck do I need school for. I'm gonna be a Son soon anyway. Just need my patch!" Jax sighed. Now Abel was sounding just like he did when he was his age. He'd only made it through school because of Tara, but he'd been full on dropping. His mother had come at him like an angry bull over that attitude. Maybe he should throw Abel to his grandma...

From behind an old orange and black trans-am, a male, Australian accented, voice called out. "Oiy, Abel! Don't go knocking school. You need as much smarts as you can get, seeing as you have so little," Jax sighed as large, muscular and tan man with sandy blonde hair under a dark brown cowboy hat and wearing a wifebeater under a dark brown plaid shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots, slide out from under the trans-am and got to his feet.

"Watch it Prospect," Abel huffed with a playful smirk as the taller male ruffled his sweaty head and grinned. "Duncan, where's Chibs at?" Duncan shrugged, reaching under his hat to scratch at his head. "Not a clue, boss. He put me on car duty last I ran into him." Duncan "Roo" "Croc" King was the newest prospecting candidate. Chibs was his sponsor, something he hadn't been fully gunning for. He hadn't really been up for sponsoring again since Half-Sack.

Duncan was a good kid. He'd done three years in Iraq, before being discharged. He'd ended up in California by drifting around, and had come to the Sons after having helped his mother get her car to the garage after it had broke down, pushing it ten miles before the tow truck showed up. He had just shrugged his big shoulders and tipped his hat when he'd been thanked by Clay, stating that he was always up for helping a woman in need.

Since then, he'd been prospecting, needing a month and week before his time was up. Chibs was proud of him, although he always picked on him. They liked to argue over their heritage sometimes. Tig hadn't been a fan of the big Aussie, mostly because he wasn't afraid of him like the others had been when they'd joined.

"You might find him at the bar, mate. Him and Bobby might be there, actually." Jax nodded, before turning to his son. "If this tutor comes around, I want you to just do as they ask so they don't stick around, alright? No trouble or you can put up with Grandma." He grinned as Abel shuddered, as he turned and made for the bar to talk to Chibs about some news of a new gang popping up outside of Charming.

**Yeah so I really don't know where I'm going with this... At all... So don't expect much outta it xD or for it to really be in character... I'm trying, but I'm not pushing on it. Also, don't expect much of the other Sons like Tig, Clay, or Happy or anyone else, cause this is mostly on the second generation of Sons ^_^**


	3. Learning

"This is the place," Emma mumbled, as she parked her car and unstrapped her seat-belt before stepping out of the car, squinting through the bright sun that reflected off the multiple bikes parked out front of what she was sure was the bar. She wrinkled her nose at the assault of gas and oils and what she knew was body odor from the males working in the garage. "Wonderful," she sighed, grabbing her shoulder bag that held his class books and study schedule.

Shifting the bag comfortably onto her shoulders, Emma walked up to where an old woman had stepped out, hoping that was the office where someone could tell her where Abel was so she could get this whole experience over with.

"Excuse me," she tapped her knuckles against the door as she opened it, causing the male sitting behind it to look up at her. He had graying hair and very bright blue eyes. He wore a work uniform, and raised a brow at her. "Sorry to bother you, but my name is Emma Young. I was sent here by miss Oswald to be Abel Tellers tutor. Would you know where he is?" she tilted her head at him, to which he did as well, before standing up. She was startled by how tall he was.

"Yeah he's my grandson. Hey, King! Get Jax, would ya?" Emma looked behind her at a blonde haired male wearing a cowboy hate, who nodded, looking her over, before running off. She frowned and shifted her bag. What was the purpose of that? Why did all males have to look her over like a car? It was uncomfortable and annoying. She never found anything appealing about her appearance. Nothing that should have them looking at her like that.

She had long, thick and straight, dark brown hair that almost looked black in a certain light, forest green eyes under a thick pair of round glasses, an average female form, chest, and weight, and dressed in green and brown a lot. Today she was wearing a dark green short sleeved top, dark brown capri jeans, and white sandals. She never tried to grab attention, so why did she get any? It was very frustrating.

"What's up?" Emma turned around once again to find an older male with blonde hair and a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He was slightly handsome, actually... And most defiantly Abel's father. The resemblance was surprising and obvious to the point of scary. She wondered if this was how Abel would look when he was older.

The man behind the desk motioned to her. "She's here to see Abel. His tutor or something." Emma turned to face him completely and gave her best forced, small, smile. "Emma Young, sir. Miss Oswald asked me to tutor Abel for his exams... Your wife, I believe, set up the arrangement." Jax smiled as he took his cigarette from his mouth and blew out a small puff of smoke,. She scowled and waved the smoke out of her face, causing him to laugh. "I'm sorry, here," she watched him put out the gross smelling stick, before stuffing the rest into his pack. "Better?"

She nodded, pushing her hair out of her face. "Yeah Abel's in the shop. If you wait inside in the bar I'll get him for ya, " he reached out and a cry of "Oiy!" was heard before the cowboy hat male from before was standing in-front of her. "Croc here will show you to the bar while I grab my shithead son," he nodded before walking off. The male, Croc?, gave a grin as he tipped his hate. "Hey, Sheila. Just follow me, alright?"

He grabbed her wrist and lightly began to lead her out the room. She waved bye and gave a quick thank-you to the older male, before she was yanked into a hazed bar. She squinted, adjusting to the dark lighting, before she saw that it had pool tables, a stage, strip poles, and a lot of booths. On the wall were multiple pictures of bikes, bike pieces, and to her surprise, mug shots. She looked at each one slowly, taking in all the face, scoffing when she spotted Abel's picture. He looked so bored in it. Not upset or angry, just bored. Like he would look in class as a teacher gave a lecture.

He always seemed bored until you got him in the halls or parking lot. He had tons of girls swarm around to check out his bike and tattoos. She was not among them. Abel Teller was just a punk in her opinion, and the way other girls swooned over him was ridiculous.

"So sheila! Hope you have a lot of patience. You must have some to want to work with my mud brained mate," Croc grinned, as she looked at him, her attention pulled from the pictures. "Actually with someone like him, I have none. I wouldn't be doing this if miss Oswald didn't persuade me to," she bluntly answered, finding a well lit enough booth to sit in, placing her bag on the table to open it and slide out his work. She was going to put him through a basic test to see what he did and didn't know.

Croc roared with laughter, grinning as he ruffled her hair, causing her glasses to become crooked on her face. "Yer a funny thing, eh sheila? Oh your just what the doc ordered," he chuckled before walking off, leaving her to flatten and straighten her hair and glasses. Sighing, she looked over the schedule once more, writing down extra notes with a pen, when she heard a door open. Glancing over, she saw Abel.

He was sweaty, and the closer he got, the worse of a smell he gave off. Wonderful. Working with stupidity AND bad odor was so on her list of fun. Turning to look at him, she gestured to the booth across from her, to which he raised a brow at her, before sliding in.

* * *

><p>No way! It was the chick from the fight.<p>

He leaned back in the booth and watched her pick through a stack of papers. She pushed up her glasses and moved her hair out of her face, as she handed a stack to him that was stapled. "My name is Emma Young," she began, professional and bored sounding. "I'm your tutor and I'm going to get right to business so we can get on with the rest of our day, cause I actually do have other things to do than try to teach you something and hope that the information will be retained in that brain of yours."

He snorted and glared at her. "I get the feeling I was just insulted," he watched her raise her head to raise her brow at him. "You understand sarcasm. Good boy." Oh, you bitch. He scowled deeply at her. This was gonna be fun. "I'm going to test to see what you may or may not know so I know what to tutor you on. Answer the questions, take your time, then return this to me and I'll go over it and we'll go from there. You can either do it here, or I can grab and grade it tomorrow and we can have the whole afternoon to play school."

He flipped through the questions, finding fifty. If he did it now, at least it would be out of the way and he'd have an excuse to not be working right now. Or do it tonight and have his mother hovering over him to make sure he was trying. Sighing, he grabbed one of her pencils, wrote his name and began to work.

* * *

><p>Emma was surprised. She'd expected more fight and snap from him, considering he was known to be a smart ass with his teachers or with anyone telling him what to do. Shrugging, she reached in her bag and pulled out her copy of <em>The Catcher in the Rye, <em>before settling back to read.

Every two pages, she would look up to see how far he was in the test, before going back to reading. She was actually happy with how easy this was going so far. Perhaps she'd be able to get through this without wanting to strangle herself with her own hands.

Hopefully, at least.


	4. Bet

"Hey."

Gemma smiled slightly as her husband turned around to look at her, his back having faced the doorway as he peeked out the blinds into the bar. He smiled and turned around to kiss her on top of her head, as she wrapped her arms around him as much she could. "Thanks for taking over, baby," she kissed his lips and smiled.

Clay smirked and growled playfully, pulling her closer. "Hey no problem, long as I get something in return..." he trailed off with a wolfish grin, pinching her ass, as she rolled her eyes and smacked his chest, pushing off him to walk over to peak out the window he'd been staring out. Her eyes fell on her grandson... Who was hunched over writing with a girl with long dark hair and a book. She frowned.

"Who is she?" She turned to her husband, who sighed. "Some tutor for Abel," he shrugged as she stared out the window, before shutting the blinds. "Names Emily or something simple like that. Oswalds daughter, Tristen, sent her over." At this, Gemma relaxed a little. Tristen could be trusted to send over the right kind of person; someone who wouldn't go digging into club life. She still wasn't in to the fact it was a female, however.

"She cause any trouble?" Clay produced a cigar from his front pocket, chewing on the end, as he leaned against a filing cabinet. "Nah. Kid doesn't talk much, according to Croc. He's been spying on em with Juice." At this Gemma snorted and smiled. The Prospect would be all over checking out the new meat and dragging Juice along. Although he was younger than Juice, he was pretty good at leading him astray.

"Huh," she clicked her tongue, closing the blinds, before opening the door to stare bluntly out at them. The girl looked up upon hearing the door opened, blinked and stared at her, before looking at Abel, then going back to her book.

She would do.

* * *

><p><p>

"Done."

Emma sat down her book, remembering her page, as she accepted the papers from Abel, flipping through it slowly to make sure he'd answered all the question, before flipping it closed. "That was quick," she commented, pulling out a red ink pen and an answer sheet. "This your way of saying you really don't know anything?"

Abel glared at her but said nothing, as she started to go through the test carefully, marking off the wrong and calculating down the grade percent as she went. When she finally finished, she nodded, actually somewhat impressed. "An eighty-eight percent." At this he smirked.

"I'm smarter than I look, you know," Emma scoffed and shuffled the answer sheet and his test together. "Really now? Is that why your practically failing school and may not be graduating?" He leaned forward and locked eyes with her. "School aint everything. It can't teach you everything you need to know. Watch. You get out in the real world, and all that book smart shit aint nothing."

Emma glared as she pulled out a History and English book; the first two subjects she'd be making him work with. "You really believe that? Granted I may not know how to break a guys nose, but I bet you my future will be a lot more cemented than yours with all that I've taken from school. I'll get the better paying job. I'll end up with the American dream. Can you honestly say that's what you'll have?" At this Abel simply shrugged, nodding. "Yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying."

Emma stared at him. He was so cocky and confident in his answer and she could almost believe him. He was smarter than he gave off; the test proved that. He'd only missed what he missed because of small errors in his thinking on it. If he'd stretched the question and thought more, he'd have probably passed with a hundred percent.

Sighing, she handed him the books and two worksheets. "Tonight you need to read the chapters posted above the page and answer the questions. I'll go over them tomorrow, and then we'll be able to see what you do and don't understand of history and English, OK?" he shrugged and pushed the papers and books to the side as he pulled out a cigarette, ready to light it, only for it to be plucked from his mouth and slapped on the table.

"Dammit! The hell?" he exclaimed, as she glared. "I hate the smell of smoke. No smoking around me when I'm tutoring, OK? You can go a whole afternoon without one of your nasty nicotine killing sticks." Abel pocketed the cigarette. "Damn. Stories were right about ya? You don't know any kind of fun, do ya? Got your head so far up a books ass, your stiffening up."

* * *

><p><p>

Abel smirked as he watched her face redden. Something about making this chick mad was fun. He guessed it had to do with how serious and uptight she was. He had to admit she wasn't bad looking. If it weren't for the stiff, _mightier than thou _attitude she carried, he'd almost call her fuckable... Shit she might even be a virgin with how she acted.

"Are you saying I don't know how to have fun just because I don't smoke and drink, Teller?" He grinned at how clipped and pissed she sounded. She really needed to loosen up. "That's what I'm sayin', he laughed, watching her scowl and cross her arms. "I'm guessing you don't drink. You don't smoke... Hell, what do you do? Read and hang out at the library?" he watched her twitched, and he knew he'd hit the mark. He'd actually seen her walking to the library when they were kids.

It had taken him awhile to realize that she was the same girl that had showed up in the seventh grade with the German accent that, when your twelve, was an easy target to pick on. Quickly after she'd showed up, she made herself scarce. It'd gotten to where he'd hear people to this day ask if she was a new kid.

She threw her books and papers into her shoulder bag and glared at him. "I don't really like the fact that you're calling me a stick in the mud." He shrugged, and that seemed to infuriate her more. Good. He wanted to watch her get riled up. He loved messing with chicks like this. And this girl needed to be pegged down.

"Alright! Fine! Name a challenge," she started, slapping her hand on the table. "Give me a task to do that proves I'm not a total stick in the mud and I'll do it." Abel felt the gears turn as a cocky, play-boy, smirk spread across his face, "Alright. You wanna prove you arnt a total stick, cool," he sat up and leaned forward, his eyes locking with her.

"Tonight, here, there's a get together happening. Small party. Show up with a new look and find me and spend the whole night there, and drink with me. You don't have to get plastered, but show that you aint afraid to drink as a minor. Live a little. Then I'll take back what I've said and I'll do whatever you tell me for the lessons til test day." Oh man, this was too easy. This was fun right here. A chance to make the schools smartest chick and goody two-shoes step out of her element and into his world for a night. No way she'll do-

"Fine!" she held out her hand to his, and he accepted it, surprised. She was going to do it. Oh man _now_ it was good. He had to get the guys in on this. "Alright. Tonight at seven. Be here."

* * *

><p><p>

With a shake of their hands and a pretty boy smirk, he was gone... And Emma felt realization kick her in the head like a bucking horse. "Liebe Mutter des Gottes," she whispered, walking numbly out the bar to her car. "What was I thinking!"

She quickly got to her car and like a bat out of hell, left. What was wrong with her? There was no way she could do this! Why had she-What was she-Was she insane? Stubbornness. That was what it was. She had stubbornly refused to accept his observation of her... Even if he was right. She was what one would consider a stick in the mud. A regular goody-two-shoes. She didn't drink, smoke, or lie and gamble. She had never wanted to or had a reason to.

She clenched the wheel as she pulled up to her house, glad to see that neither her mother or her father were home yet, meaning they must be working late. Her mother was a secretary for the mayor while her father worked outside of charming at a factory helping make car parts. There would be nights they wouldn't come home til three in the morning. This seemed like one of those nights.

Parking her car and quickly getting out, she rushed to her room and fell face forward onto the bed, screaming into her pillow. By Einstein's ghost she couldn't fathom this. What had caused her to act up like this.

Plenty of times in the past she had been provoked for her different attitude towards things, but never had she acted out like this... Because never before had she gone against someone like Abel Teller. He was so confident and calm about everything she pushed against. He was sure of himself. He wasn't dumb, and she knew it, and he knew that she knew. So he could push back on her.

No one pushed back on her like he was. Most just got mad and called her "bitch" or "smart ass skank"... But he wasn't trying to straight out insult her like them for pushing... He wanted her to insult herself in embarrassment and surrender.

"No way," she grumbled, rolling onto her back then sitting up to stare at her closet. She had a lot of clothes. Her aunt on her moms side was a fashion, shopaholic, madwoman who would shower her in clothes she thought would look nice on her, and hope that she would wear them. Biting her lip, Emma walked over to her desktop and booted it to life, pacing until it was on, before signing onto Skype and contacting her Aunt, hoping she was one.

"Hello! Is this my favorite niece?" Emma couldn't help but smile. "I'm your only niece, Aunt Angelique." At this, her aunts face split into a wide, perfect and white, smile. "Emma, baby! How are you? Everything OK? You usually don't call. I have to call you," she gave her a look that said that she didn't approve of that setup, as Emma gave a weak shrug. "Actually... I need your help with something... Feel like playing dress-up?"

She turned her web cam to the closet, and saw on her computer screen as grin split across her aunts face


	5. Winning

"I don't know about this, aunt Angelique."

She looked herself over in the mirror, frowning. This outfit... Was way out of left field for her. It was revealing, it was tight, and she felt so... Exposed. Her aunt had put her in a black mid-drift top that showed off her naval, a pair of dark cutoff denim jeans, and dark brown cowgirl boots. Her hair was left down to frame her face, and light make-up was dabbed on (she'd had to grab some of her moms since she had none of her own).

"You look fine, sweetheart. If your going to the type of place you described, and if this guy is just like you said, then you look perfect," her aunt was more excited than her. They'd gone through at least fifteen outfits, before her current one was the decided one. The make-up had been a nightmare to do; she wasn't exactly skilled in applying it.

Sighing, she looked away from the window and pushed her glasses up on her face. She'd refused to wear contacts. She wasn't a fan of the idea of shoving two plastic things in her eyes. That wasn't happening. "You look hot, Em! Don't be so down," her aunt chuckled, earning a "yeah right" smile as Emma grabbed her small coin purse.

"So have fun, live a little, and don't get pregnant or your mother and father will kill you and me," Emma gagged and rolled her eyes, waving goodbye to her aunt as she turned off Skype and shut-down her computer. Her foot was twitching as she shut off her lights while walking out the door, locking it, glad that her parents trusted her with a lockable door and room.

Jogging down the stairs, she grabbed her keys before running to the garage to her car. She was gonna be late. She was already dressed to prove him wrong, so there was no way she was gonna be late. Starting up her car, she waited for the garage door to open, before she backed out and made sure the door shut, before pealing out towards the bar, her nerves and body twitch, as she tried to cover more of herself.

Slowing down as she pulled up to the garage, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of the large parking lot full of bikes, hot-rods, and their drivers. Some wearing black leather vests with a logo of a grim reaper wielding what looked like an M-16, with a bloody scythe blade and holding a crystal ball with the anarchy "A" on it. 'Sons of Anarchy, Redwood Original' circled the logo, and it was all in white leather, sticking out against the black.

Parking, Emma stepped out of the vehicle and shut the door, locking the car and stuffing her keys into her small coin purse. She shifted on her feet, as she looked around, slowly making her way into the parking lot center, feeling like a dolled up sheep waiting to be slaughtered by the pack of wolves. This was crazy! She couldn't believe she was doing this just to one-up some asshole blonde like Abel Teller!

She was tempted to turn and run, to get in her car and just leave, when she saw Abel. He was sitting on the picnic table with Croc and an older male with a fading scar across his face. Straightening herself, she walked right over to him, dodging around people and ignoring the lecherous stares.

"Still think I'm a stick in the mud, Mr. Teller?"

* * *

><p>Abel looked up from his cigarette and his jaw nearly hit the floor.<p>

She'd actually came. She actually fucking went through with it. Son of a bitch! He jumped down from his spot on the table and crossed his arms, staring at her. The outfit was not what he'd expected her to wear. She looked... Damn she actually looked hot. Without those capri's or jeans, you could see how long her legs were and see her curves better when her stomach was showing like that.

"You know they have this thing called a camera. It takes pictures and they last longer, Teller," she commented, crossing her arms as he snorted, pushing his thoughts aside to grin at her. "Well shit! Looks like Croc won the bet I made," at this Croc whooped and grinned. "I bet you weren't gonna come tonight. Hey Croc I owe ya fifty bucks, man!"

Croc laughed and ran up to her, placing his arm on her shoulder like she was an arm rest. "Alright, Sheila! I never doubted ya! You made me fifty bucks richer!" Abel reached in his back pocket and pulled out a fifty, handing it to the Aussie, who grinned . "Come on, girlie! I'll buy you your first drink of the night to celebrate!" He watched her eyes widen, as Croc began to drag her off to the alcohol. Behind him, he heard his uncle laugh.

"Lass showed you up, aye lad?" Abel smirked as he hopped up to sit back in his old spot. "Yeah. Had to pay up. Should have known better. Fucking stubborn. I could see that the moment me and her made the bet." Chibs smirked, and took a swig of his beer, as Abel watched Croc animatedly move his arms as Emma held her drink, backing up when he would get to close. Shithead was already halfway gone, so now that he'd won the bet, he'd be in be gone from then on.

"You and the lass got something?" Abel about spit his beer, choking as he laughed. "Hell no! You kidding! I'd rather date a Mayan used bitch than her." As soon as he said that, he inwardly winced. That wasn't true. He'd pick her over some Mayan bitch anyway, but not if there were other offers. She was to goody goody for his taste. The only reason she was here was because of her stubbornness and him. Otherwise she'd probably be at home watching the History channel or some shit like that.

His appointed uncle shrugged, before getting up to leave, walking over to Juice and Bobby, who were talking with his grandpa Clay, Tig, and Happy... Well more like his grandpa and Tig, seeing as Happy barely said a word, mostly nodding. His gaze shifted back to Croc, who was dragging Emma around, her drink still unopened. If she wanted to win the bet completely, she'd have to drink the damn thing.

He stood up and spat out his cigarette but, stomping on it as he made his way towards Croc and Emma, who was now dragging the girl to his grandpa and the others.

* * *

><p>He was going to rip her arm from her socket! She wanted to cry. He was so obviously drunk and now she had to put up with him dragging her around like some doll! God she was gonna be sore by the end of this ordeal. Jogging to keep up as she was once again dragged on, she inwardly thanked God when he stopped and let her go finally.<p>

"Shit, Roo," a male with a dark, curly, hair commented with a sneer. "Your a fucking light weight! Haven't even had your tenth beer yet," he gestured to the one in Croc's hand, to witch the drunk Australian flipped him off. "Fuck you, Trigger," he slurred with a glare, puffing up. Tigger (Disney name for a guy like this? They must be joking...) scowled darkly at the drunk male. "Better come get your Prospect, Irish."

The man who'd been sitting with Abel, suddenly walked beside her and grabbed Croc by his shoulder. "Come on, lad! Lets get you away from here before I have ta pry you from the ground," he laughed, as he dragged the male away, leaving Emma to stand alone. She felt the curly haired Tig's eyes on her, and she shivered. His eyes and vibe gave her the creeps. Something about the way he looked at her was like a mindless animal waiting to pounce.

The man next to him was just as bad. His vibe was cold and calculating. Like he knew every weak spot on your body by just looking at you. It was really creepy. She shook her beer as she finally opened it and took a drink, wanting something to do. She cringed at the taste, which was like some bad tasting water with a worse aftertaste. Eww.

"And now you've won the bet," she about jumped out of her skin when she heard Abel's voice behind her. She whipped around to face him with an annoyed scowl, knowing that he had seen her fear. "Looks like I have," she took another drink of the alcohol to seal her point, inwardly gagging, but not as badly. "I told you I'm not some stick in the mud, Teller." She flipped her hair back out of her face and tilted her nose up in victory.

**There we go. Two chapters for being patient with me. I'm hoping to post two next time, so please be patient with me again, OK?**


	6. No Game

"What do you make of this, mama?"

Tara glanced over at Gemma, who gestured to where Abel was smirking and staring down the dark haired female. The girl had her arms crossed as they continued to mouth back at each other. But what she also saw, was the playfulness about it from Abel. Although she was going all out about whatever they were getting on to each other for, Abel was playing it like a game. It was like watching a younger her and Jax.

Frowning she shook her head. "Jax said Abel bet her that she wouldn't show up and she did.. I'm not really sure what's going on." She saw Gemma frown before she turned to John, who was talking with Kenny. Kenny and Ellie had grown up pretty sheltered from a lot of club life dealings, but Kenny had still found his way to the Sons, having Prospected when he turned twenty one. He was big and quiet like his dad, and a trusted friend. He watched out for Abel and John a lot.

"John? Do you know anything about that girl your brother invited?" John looked over at his big brother, scratching the back of his neck. John was a lot like Tara. Soft spoken until you provoked him, shy around people, and a little awkward with club dealings. Although he had a few years before he could go for a position, people wondered if he even wanted to be a Son.

John shrugged his shoulders as he walked over to stand by his mother and grandmother. "She's just this girl from school. She's kind of a nerd, ya know? All into school and books and shit. Doesn't have a lot of friends. Least I never see her with any," again he shrugged. "Her names Emma. She's just one of those people that act like they know everything, ya know?"

Gemma snorted, blowing a puff a smoke from her cigarette. "So she's got the makings of a senator or some shit like that?" John smirked and nodded. "Yeah. She's the one giving the speech at the graduation. The... Whatever you call it where your the top of the graduating class. She's that." Tara nodded and smiled a little. That eased her a bit. This girl was smart from the sound of it. Abel could use being around someone like that.

"I think they look kind of cute together," Kenny commented, standing beside his step-mom, who smiled up at him. "You think so too?" Lyla chuckled, earning a snort from Gemma as John laughed before kissing his grandma and mother on the cheek as he ran off to go mess around with his brother.

* * *

><p>She was actually enjoying herself.<p>

Abel couldn't help but note that with each snappish remark or smartass comment they made to each other, her eyes would light up and her shoulders and body would relax more. She was finally pulling some of that stick out of her ass.

"So? Glade you came?" A grin was split across his face, as he watched her take another drink of the second bottle he'd handed to her. She was more relaxed, and he guessed she was a light weight. Give her two more and she'd be tipsy. Another one after those two and she'd probably be almost gone. "Not really, " she answered, looking up at him.

Her eyes were getting that glazed look, and he wanted to laugh. The Goody goody valedictorian was getting drunk. "Is this all you do is stand around, drink, and tell shitty jokes? No wonder your IQ is questioned."

And she was back. That bitchy mightier than thou side was creeping up again. But he guessed that was how just how she was. "You ever know how to not bitch and act like you know everything?" He expected her to snap or yell at her. Instead she just shrugged. "This isn't my thing, Teller. I say this to myself all the time and I'll say it to you," she looked up at him, and he felt himself stiffen at how sad she almost looked. "I'm not good around people. I may know a lot of scientific and educational facts... But people arn't like books. You can't just open them and read them when you want... That's hard for me, Abel. I like to know what I'm reading, not have to ram the book open and try to force it to let me read."

She went quiet as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching her. Why did people always have to open up when they were drunk? Why? Shit! He would have felt better not knowing this. Why tell him this?

"Hey, Emma!" Abel blinked and turned to find John running over to them He had a shy smile on his face as he stopped infront of her. "Caught up to you again! Need to learn to walk faster if your trying to avoid me!" His bothers shy and awkward attitude sometimes earned him cutie points from the Crow-Eaters and girls at school, but he never expected it to get a smile, an actual smile, out of Emma. "I'll always be mentally ahead of you though, so you'll be the one who'll have to learn to be faster."

Abel felt himself slouch as his brother laughed, earning a chuckle from her. What the hell? He'd been trying all night to get her to joke freely and loosen up, and his brother gets her with one dumbass joke. How the fuck did that work?

* * *

><p>She liked John. He wasn't cocky like his brother. He wasn't out to prove that he could make her laugh or act stupid; he was just being himself. Maybe if Abel acted like that, she wouldn't find him so infuriating annoying. Like now, she could see he was slightly annoyed with his brother, because she laughed for him. It wasn't a competition.<p>

"So what are you going to do without your brother with you at school?" she asked, finding a place on a curve to sit down. She was getting a little dizzy now, and she really didn't feel like falling over and making an ass of herself.

John shrugged and gave a lopsided grin. "Go to school and try to keep the double trouble going." She smiled as he sat down beside her, waving his arms wildly a he tried to get his balance on the curve. Above them Abel leaned on his left leg and smoked his third cigarette of the night. Was he trying to get some kind of lung cancer?

"What about you," John asked, causing her to glance at him as she finished her second beer, grabbing a third one from a cooler behind her, not caring whose it was. Once you got use to the taste, these things weren't so bad. "You gonna do college and shit?"

She opened her beer and took another drink before answering with a small wave of her hands. "Yeah I've applied for four out of state and three still in California. My dream college is Oxford or Princeton to major in Politics to be a senator." She always wanted to work in the politics and have more of a say in the outcome of the world. John nodded and smiled. "That's cool. I was thinking of going for doctor and do health like my mom."

She saw Abel role his eyes and she scowled up at him before nodding in approval to John. "You could do it. Just keep your grades up and don't get in a lot if trouble. I know that's hard for you Teller boys," she glanced up at Abel who smirked down at her, "but it is possible."

John shrugged, grabbing a beer for himself out of the cooler behind her. "I just don't think I wanna do school for that long, ya know?" Emma gave him a small shake of her head. Of course that would be the reason he wouldn't want to go into such a promising field. "I don't know what to tell you, John. I've always wanted to go to college. I want to better myself and create my own life with my own income," she took another sip of her beer and stared down at the content, swirling it in the bottle. "Maybe one day get married and start a family if I can find a man who can put up with someone like me."

Above them, she heard Abel mutter "poor sap", to which she glared at him for. "Ha ha, Teller. You know, I feel so sorry for whoever gets _unten gebunden an Ihrem traurigen Esel_." Abel scowled at her, and she couldn't help but smirk. "Hey, Young," he grumbled, "if you're gonna insult me, say it in English, alright?"

**unten gebunden an Ihrem traurigen Esel - tied down to your sorry ass**

**Also, the models for Emma, Abel, John, and Croc can be found on my profile page. Give them a look. If you have some better models for them that you can think of, feel free to tell me :)**


	7. Dance

Jax puffed on his fourth cigarette of the night.

He sat on his bike, as Opie walked over and handed him a beer. "Thanks, man," he tilted the bottle in thanks, before opening it and taking a large swig. Opie stood sipping on his own beer. Jax lazily scanned the crowd, stopping to watch Kenny as he walked over to where his boys and the tutor were, smiling as John laughed and the tutor smirked up at Abel from her spot next to John.

"Looks like they're having fun," Jax smirked, as Opie nodded. "Croc, before his ass passed out, said she could give Abel a run for his money with her mouth."At this Opie shook his head and smiled, as Jax took another swig of his beer, a lsow frown forming as he sighed.

"You still thinking about that call from Needles?" Opie mumbled, as Jax finished his cig, before flicking it away. "Yeah," Jax frowned, shifting on his bike to get into a new position. "I don't like it, Op. Some unknown gang shows up out of nowhere and tries to take over the Nevada chart and puts six of our brothers in the hospital." Opie remained silent, as Jax scowled deeply.

The call had been a blow to Jax. Since Jerry's passing two years ago, he'd done his best to check up on his Indian Hills brothers, making sure Needles, the new club Pres, was doing OK. And now this happens on his watch. Tomorrow Happy was heading up to check on the damage and report back to him as soon as he could.

It wasn't just the fact that the crew got attacked that had him in edge. It was the fact that they'd been attacked by some unknowns calling themselves _Die Soldaten. _He'd re-run the name by the club tomorrow at the meeting to see if there was any history anyone might have with them.

"Hey," Opie cut through his thoughts. "Don't sweat it. We'll figure it out." Jax nodded, relaxing just a little. It was times like this, that having Opie as his brother was a good thing. He'd helped cool things down after the Donna spill from Tigs, even though he had every right to disband and hate his brothers. But he had stayed and helped keep them all from making dumbass mistakes and learning to trust again. He'd been the revelator his father had underline preached about in his book.

"Yeah," he pushed himself from his bike and pat Opie on the shoulder, before walking over to talk with Happy about tomorrow

* * *

><p>"I never understood how you rode this thing," Emma mused, looking over the paint-job of Abel's Harley Davidson. She was fascinated, more than she really should be, by the reaper painted on the gas tank. Her fuzzy mind was able to figure out, barely, that she was now drunk. Or at least pretty close to it. She'd lost count of the beers she'd had, and the room had started spinning when she'd indulged in a number of Jello shots one of the scandalously dressed girls had been giving her.<p>

She mused over the leather seat, before sliding on, ignoring how her cutoff denim jeans rode up, revealing more of her legs. She laughed, as she had to lean and struggle to touch the handlebars and her tiptoes just brushed the ground. Then again, Abel was taller than her by a lot.

To her right, Abel rolled his eyes. He had really pretty eyes, actually... How come she'd never noticed them? "Off the bike, Young," he walked over and picked her up easily, removing her from the bike as she stumbled to stand on her feet, giggling. Everything shifted back and forth, before she was able to smile and steady herself. "Abel... I think... Yeah I think I'm drunk."

"No shit?" he gasped, feigning surprise. Emma punched his arm and laughed. "Don't make fun of me, Teller... I've never been drunk before... Is everything suppose to shift and spin?" Abel shrugged as he placed his hand on her back to steady her. His hand was warm... She wondered if his whole body was warm. "It's different for some people, dad says. For me, I just always blacked out or felt like I was moving real fast," he grabbed her arm and walked her over to a bench, sitting her down.

"Thanks! I can't seem to walk right now... Oh my God!" Her eyes widened, as she dully realized that she wasn't at home, and it was probably almost daylight! Her parents would flip if she wasn't home when they got home! She quickly tried to stand up, but groaned and almost fell over at how fast everything was moving. "I-I have to get home! My mother and father-They don't know Im here. I-I can't get in trouble!"

Abel started to laugh. "Chill, goody. It's cool. Just tell them you left early to get an early morning start on your tutoring with me. They know your doin that, right?" Emma nodded, somewhat recalling miss Oswald saying she'd call her parents to inform her of her tutoring request.

Emma let out a sigh, relaxing. It was easier than normal, seeing as she was intoxicated and her muscles felt loose. She swayed slightly on her feet, smiling as some 80s rock song began to play. In her state she couldn't tell what song it was, but she really wanted to dance to it. She was other girls dancing or swaying their hips seductively to the music, and Emma wondered if she could do that. In her normal state, she'd scowl at that kind of movement. But at the moment, she said to hell with decency, and wanted to give it a go.

"Abel! Dance with me!" She ordered, grabbing his wrist. Abel raised a brow and smirked. "Can you even dance, brainbox?" at this Emma scowled. "Yes... Maybe... I don't know.. I've never danced in public before... But I wanna try... Just not alone." Abel stared at her and she felt uncomfortable for once. Normally she'd stare or glare back. But his stare right now was making her edgy. She was about to snap at him for it, when he grabbed her waist and turned her around, pressing her back to his chest. "Just relax and move anyway that feels comfortable, alright? That's the best way to learn."

Emma snorted. "Since when did you become a dance teacher?" She heard him chuckle, feeling in vibrate against her upper back from his chest. "Since my grandma and mother were mine. Now do you wanna dance or just run that mouth of yours?" Emma scowled before looking up and sticking her tongue out childishly at him.

* * *

><p>So officially, he could say he preferred drunk Emma over stick up the ass Emma. When she was loose and carefree and relaxed, she was either to get through to. She actually knew how to be playful and didn't bite back with every comment he made to her. He could handle that.<p>

But, what he couldn't handle right now, was her grinding on him like she was. Damn! Where did she learn to-? "Thought you'd never danced before?" She looked up and slowed down her movements. "I haven't... Not in public or with another person.. Doesn't mean I never learned... I like to watch a lot of MTV and VH1 actually... Not just the Discovery or History channel," she winked up at him, and he couldn't help but laugh. She wasn't as much of a stick as he thought.

**R&R Plz.**


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